Dear Diary
by Rei No Ikishini
Summary: CHAPTER 18 UP! When Mr. Wonka closes down his factory, he also sends away the woman hes come to love, when she is falsely framed for theivery.
1. Prologue

Hi! I'm Rei, and this is my fan fiction! It takes place a year or so after the closing of the factory, making Mr. Wonka let's say, 24,at the time. I have no idea what the time period is, so forgive me for any mistake I may make. Also, I am not going into detail about the factory, or Mr. Wonka, just know that this is based off of the 2005 movie. R&R Please!

Right, disclaimer, oh yeah! I own nothing and am making no money off of this fan fiction, in fact, I am losing money in electricity by writing this fan fiction, but oh well!

Prologue

Mr. Willy Wonka sat in the edible room, seemingly watching the chocolate waterfall with rapt attention. However, if one could see his face, one would see that his eyes were hazy, unfocused, and lost in thought. Whatever he may have been thinking of, though, was lost to the world as his concentration was broken by one of his Oompah Loompahs' tugging on the back of his jacket.

The Oompah Loompah, whose name was Meddigar, was gesturing to the small box he had dragged with him, addressed to Willy Wonka. Confused, Willy took the package from Meddiagr, wondering who on earth would send him a package. Dismissing the Oompah Loompah, he carefully tore the tape off the box, revealing a black book, devoid of any title or label, and a manila envelope.

Deciding to look at the book first, he opened it to the first page and started reading.

"_Dear Diary, _

_My name is Melissa Taylor…"_

Well! Sorry for the annoyingly short prologue! Please R&R


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am in no way making money off of this fan fiction.

R&R please!

_December 12_

"_Dear Diary, _

_My name is Melissa Taylor. I am, or was, a student at the local high school, but I have turned 18 today, and convienently graduated last week, so now I am on a hunt for a job. My mother passed on recently, about a year ago, leaving me homeless. What of my father, you ask? He died, many years ago, of a type of cancer. It was when I was a little girl, and my mother wouldn't talk about it. My mother passed on of old age, having just turned 60. It doesn't seem that old, but when you are poor, and don't have much to eat, it is common. Luckily enough, I am a friend of the local Innkeepers daughter, and they have graciously let me stay in one of the rooms there until I find a job and a place to stay. Not to say I don't work there, I do help out as a waitress every night, to make up for him losing a room, but it isn't the same as actually working there, now is it? _

_I'm not quire sure as to why I am keeping a diary, at all, actually. I suppose it's to help cope with the loss of my family, my home, and my lifestyle in general. I know I don't seem all that sad about it, but after a year, I am getting better about it. Why start a diary now, you ask? Ok, so you aren't really asking, but I shall tell you anyways. I am starting a diary now because I am about to go out into the real world, and things are sure to be difficult there. So I will need a way to cope, thus you. My diary._

_I must leave you now, dear friend, because the sun is past setting and it is hard to see now (I do not like to have lighting in my room, as I am not paying for it). I shall write in you again, in the near future, hopefully!_

_Melissa"_


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am in no way making money off of this fan fiction.

R&R Please!

_December 19_

"_Dear Diary,_

_Hello, again. It's been a week singe I last wrote, so sorry about that. I have searched high and low for a job, but I haven't been able to find a damn thing! I tried the library, the school, the theatre, the candy shops, the supermarkets, the bookshop, and the pastry shop, everywhere, even the toothpaste factory, but to no avail, as I am still jobless. I still have a shot, though, for I hear that the Wonka candy shop is moving to a factory and will need more workers. I know a thing or two about machines, so maybe I have a chance. Only time will tell. Sorry for the short entry, but I am tired from searching, and I smell, so I am off to take a bath. _

_Melissa_


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing and am in no way making money off of this fan fiction.

R&R please!

_December 22_

_Dear Diary, _

_I was right! Mr. Wonka did move to a factory, and did need new workers! I got a job! Unfortunately, it will still be some time before I can afford my own place, but it is a start! And Mr. Renkin (the Innkeeper) is nice enough to not make me pay for my lodging, although I believe it is because he knows it will get me out of here faster! Not that I mind at all! I am to start on the next coming Monday, which is in 3 days. Oddly enough, I have no idea what I have been hired for. Mr. Wonka gave the strangest interview! It went something like this…_

_"Greeting starshine, the earth says hello!" Mr. Wonka greeted us all in such a fashion. "Well then, hello Earth!" I said. This seemed to please him, because his smile turned genuine. It was almost unnoticeable, but not quite. _

_"Well then, lets get down to business," he started off, "I am going to ask you some questions, and you answer them! It's as simple as that! Question one, and the most Important question, Do you like chocolate?"_

_"Yes" I replied simply._

_"Do you Wonka chocolate?" he specified, when he didn't get the answer he was looking for._

_"In all honesty, I do not know. I have never had any. I cannot afford the luxury."_

_"Well then, we should get on with the interview so you can get hired and be able to afford Wonka chocolate!" He said with a laugh, after seeming to think about what I had said._

_"Next question, and one that has been on my mind since the last interview I gave, why are dandelions called dandelions if they aren't dandy at all?" He seemed genuinely confused, and it brought out my childish nature._

_"Because they want everyone to think that they are dandy," _

_"But everyone knows they aren't!" he burst out._

_"Shh," I held my finger to my lips, and whispered, "they don't know that we know!" _

_"Oh! Okay, well then, I won't tell anyone!" He motioned zipping his lips and throwing a key over his shoulder, which me giggle. The little display showed me that he was very childish by nature, as if he had yet to grow up completely. _

_"Alright, next question!" He yelled, in a suddenly deep voice, making me jump. Did I mention that he has a gender confusing voice? Because he does. One minute it can be strangely deep, and the next, it's higher than mine, and I'm known for my high voice! It's almost like he's switching between adult and child, although his personality doesn't change. It's really cool, but also unnerving if you aren't used to it, and right then, I wasn't. Right, anywho, back to the interview._

_"What does a snozberry taste like?" He questioned. Now I have never heard of a snozberry, so I just said what seemed logical._

_"Why, a snozberry tastes like a snozberry, sir." Apparently, this was the right answer, because he smiled, again. But then he frowned._

_"Don't call me sir, it makes me feel old."_

_"Alright si- I mean Mr. Wonka." He glared at me for a second at my slip up and I could feel my face heat up in embarrassment. _

"_Sorry Mr. Wonka" I said._

"_It's alright, just don't do it again! Now, on with the interview!" _

_The interview continued on in that fashion, him asking odd questions, and me giving odd answers. Finally, after about a half hour of odd questions, he pronounced me hired._

_"You're hired! Report to the factory at 8am Monday morning!" _

_"Well, I, uh, I, Thank you Mr. Wonka! Thank you so much!" A huge grin broke out on my face. "I believe this is the most fun I have ever had, not only in an interview, but, well, ever!" I took my leave, and…well, here I am telling you everything that happened! Ow…and now my hand hurts. Someday, I'll get used to doing all this writing. But until then, I bid you goodnight!_

_Melissa_


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: -pushes play on cd player- I own nothing and am in no way making money from this fan fiction.

R&R Please!

(Also, I'm pretty sure Europe uses the metric system, but as the US is dumb, and does not, I, too, will not be using the metric system. Sorry bout that!)

_December 23_

_Hello Diary,_

_It occurred to me last night that you do not know what I look like, so I thought I would tell you, seeing as I do not have a picture of myself to put in here. I am 5'6" and am just shy of skinny. I'm one of those girls who you can't tell that I'm not skinny unless I'm wearing tight clothes, but poverty doesn't leave room for tight clothes, now does it? My hair is short, just past my ears, and dark brown. Sometimes it is mistaken for black, but that has only happened to me twice. My hair used to be very long. But I sold it when I got out of school. Short hair is much better for working conditions. Last time I checked, my eyes were blue/brown. And ugly mix if I do say so myself. I also have rather large feet. No one really studies my feet, but when I stand next to my friend from the inn, whose name I forgot to mention was Diana, although we are of the same high, my feet must be a good four inches longer than hers! Freaky, eh? My height is all in my legs, I have recently noticed. When I stand next to Diana, I am as tall as her, but when we sit, she is taller than me by an inch or two. I have an Annoying habit of cracking my knuckles. Not that you needed to know, but I felt like telling you, anyways. Well that's all I can think of, for now! I'm sure that later on, I'll think of something else about me that I wish to tell you. My thoughts are rather scattered like that. Now, it is early, and I must help serve customers at the inn!_

_Melissa_


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

(A/N) Alright, I forgot that the upcoming Monday was Christmas break in my story! So I'm going to skip ahead and say ins January 3rd, and that is the first Monday of work! So sorry about that!

_January 1st _

_Dear diary, _

_Well, uneventful Christmas, as usual. I helped out Diana at the in and she agreed to lend me one of her outfits for work. At least hers aren't ratty, albeit they're patched up, but still, they're a hell of a lot nicer that what I've got, so I'm not complaining!_

_I feel bad, though, because I couldn't get her a gift, but when I start working at the factory, I'll buy her something. As I said, it was all rather uneventful, so there isn't much for me to write about. Until next time!_

_Melissa_


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

(A/N) All right, I forgot that the upcoming Monday was Christmas break in my story! So I'm going to skip ahead and say its January 3rd, and that is the first Monday of work! So sorry about that! (PS – if you can find the bit I borrowed from the labyrinth, I'll love you forever! Or give you a hug, which ever works for you!)

January 4th 

_Dear diary,_

_I have never looked forward to a Monday, until now! The factory is amazing! It's a like a childhood dream! There are hallways that shrink, entire walls that open, a glass elevator (that doesn't just go up and down mind you), musical locks, coat hangers that look like hands and actually grab your coats! (it even grabbed a hat right off a mans head!) Also, it seems as though the rooms actually **move! **As Mr. Wonka was showing us to our respective work areas, he opened a door to a broom closet, but when he shut the door and opened it on the other side, it was a room full of machinery! Oh, yeah! As it turns out, most of the people who were hired work as candy assembly liners, me included. Basically, we wrap the candy, and the machines seal them shut. We all have to wear rubber gloves (obviously, for sanitary reasons) but I never expected us to have our choice in color! There was every color you could imagine! Including one set that had every color! The gloves I chose had a nice array of all the different blues in the world. I'll be sure to give you a daily glove update. Tomorrow, I may feel like orange, but I can't be sure. Mr. Wonka also chose about 10 of us (me included) to fix the machines if there was ever a problem. He seemed skeptical at first about me handling the machinery, considering I had never had a job before, especially one in machinery, but I assured him I knew what I was doing. (When I was in school, I worked with mechanics with my friends, who were all guys. Mechanics always interested me, and if I had the money I would have gone to school for it.) Luckily, despite how odd the machinery looks, it's probably the only **normal **thing there! Normal as in, it works like other machinery, and, much to my surprise, isn't made of candy. Although that would be silly, to have a candy-making machine made of candy. Why if you had the candy to make the machine, you wouldn't need the machine to make the candy! Oh dear! Got to go, a fight has just broken out downstairs!_

_Melissa_


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

R&R Please

_January 5th _

_Dear Diary, _

_Ow. That's all I have to say. Remember that fight? Yeah, well lets say three drunks versus one Melissa and one Mr. Renkin, who was trying to solve everything peacefully, is a recipe for me having a black eye and bruised rib. I have to wear these annoying bandages for the next moth or so. I'm proud to say, though, that I'm not the only one with a black eye! (Ok, so I didn't get to fight, but I still have my battle wounds to prove it!) The drunks we're fighting over Diana, as usual. She's very pretty, and the only young female working here. She has long strawberry blonde hair (We dubbed it strawberry blonde when we determined it too light to be red, but definitely not blonde). She always pulls it back in a high ponytail, with her bangs hanging just above her eyebrows. Her eyed aren't emerald, like most people with red hair, but a pure peridot. Most unusual. Also, she has a lovely face. Round, tiny nose, innocent eyes, straight teeth (a rarity here, believe me), and a rosy round face. No wonder the drunks usually fight over her. I wish they wouldn't though, not because fights are bad for business, but because Diana is very timid. You wouldn't know it if you saw her as a waitress, but when there's a fight; she tends to cry a lot. I don't like it when people make me friends cry. Well, I have to go to work now, so I'll write when I get back. _

_Melissa_

_January 5th,** still**_

_Hey diary,_

_Note to self, never go into work while hurt. When working on the assembly line today (I put the outer wrapper on the candy. Oh! Glove update, I chose neon green today, instead) someone elbowed me in the rib (purely on accident, mind you! Also, I later learned his name was Pieter) which, of course, caused me to cry out. In turn, the-man-who-I-would-later-know-as-Pieter realized I was hurt (besides my black eye, I'll get to that later) and went to inform Mr. Wonka! So, he left whatever he was inventing, led by the-man-who-I-would-later-know-as-Pieter, and he led me out of the "wrapping wroom" as it was so aptly named, into the hallway. The interrogation went as such (which, as you know, will never be normal where Mr. Wonka is involved)…_

" _You're…uhh…Meloney, right?"_

"_Melissa"_

"_Yeah, that. Well Meloney,"_

"_Melissa" I Intervened_

"…_what happened?" He continued as if I hadn't said a thing. _

"_I got hurt," I stated simply._

"_How?" _

"_A drunk punched me."_

"_In the eye?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Then why did you cry out when that guy…uhh…P-Pah-,"_

"_Pieter?" I suggested._

"_Yeah, him. Why'd you cry out when he hit your side, if you got punched in the eye?"_

"_Because I kicked the drunk who hit me, so he threw a chair at my ribcage."_

"_Wow, you're really mean."_

"_So was he, for hitting me first," I countered. _

_"Why'd he hit you in the first place?" he asked, although I was strangely quiet._

_"Because I was trying to protect my friend. He tried to take her away. How would you like it if someone tried to take away you're friend?"_

_"I…I don't have any friends." He said, growing softer with each word. _

_I has paused for a moment. No friends? It was here the conversation turned. _

_"Well... if you want," I murmured quietly, "I'll be you friend." His eyes grew unusually large at this statement._

_"You will? Really weally will?"_

_" Sure! But…" He seemed to be scared, "My name is Melissa!"_

_"But that's such a looooooooong name," he whined. _

_It occured to me, that, when spoken, it was no longer than "Meloney" but I chose not to point that out. I wasn't willing to get into an argument at that point. _

_"Well then…you can call me…uhh…Mel. Yeah. You can call me Mel. Now, if you'll excuse me, although you are my friend, you're also my boss. It's by second day, and already I've caused trouble, so, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to work."_

_"You **want **to work? Hehe, you're really weird"_

_"Yup!" I said with a smile, "good day Mr. Wonka!"_

_I went back to the "wrapping room" and was bombarded by questions about what happened to me. I was fortunate enough to have Pieter fend them off, saying it was the least he could do after getting me pulled out of work for the day. _

_I like Pieter, he reminds me of my father. Always caring about other people. Also, his eyes smile. Just like Papa's…_

_Well, I have to go to sleep now. Hopefully I'll get to put in a full day at work tomorrow. Plus, it seems, I have a new friend by the name of Mr. Willy Wonka. This is so weird._

_Melissa (now known as "Mel")_


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

R&R Please

(PS- sorry that nothing is really happening, but, it seems like something of this nature should take time...a lot of time…I say again, please forgive me.

January 19th 

_Dear Diary, _

_It has been 2 weeks since my supposed friendship with Mr. Wonka began. And in those two weeks, he has not once gotten my name right. So, today was payback day. Now I know you want to know everything that happened (and even if you don't, too bad! You're a book! You can't do a thing about it!). It went like this…_

"_Ah Hello Marissa!" He greeted me happily._

"_My name is Melissa"_

"_Right! That's what I said!" Now you know as well as I that this is indeed **not **what he said, but I did not press the matter. _

"_Mr. Waldo,"_

"_It's Wonka," he stated._

"_Yeah, that, Anyways, Mr. Wafa, there has been a breakdown in the everlasting gobstopper department."_

"_It's Wonka!" he said a bit more forcefully this time. I started to snicker, but he did not notice._

"_Right. The machines are fixed, but the workers are covered in everlasting gobstoper solution that has quickly dried, and they will be encased in it forever if you don't do something to get it off, Mr. Waman."_

"_It's WONKA!" He cried, his voice becoming unnaturally high at this point. _

_I couldn't help myself, and laughed. He looked at me wide eyes and his mouth agape, as if to say 'what the bloody hell is going on here?'_

_Controlling my laughter, I stated simply "Now you know what its like to have someone get your name wrong **all the time.**" He looked as if he had been beaten at his own game, which, in a way, he had. So, as all people who lose at their own game do, he gave in. Now of course, he didn't apologize. After 2 weeks of working here, I learned that Willy Wonka would never apologize. However, for the rest of the day, he did call me Melissa, seemingly having forgotten about his complaints of my name being too long. I am fairly confidant that this wrong-name business will cease now. By-the-By, the daily glove update for the past two weeks has been as follows:_

_1: Rainbow_

_2: Plum/Crème Swirl_

_3:Left hand Red, Right Hand Yellow (Oh my bob, I sound like a game of twister)_

_4: Blue tye-dye_

_5:Silver_

_6:Gold_

_7:Orange_

_8:Vanilla (oddly, though, it only smelled of vanilla, the color, was Aqua)_

_9: Pomegranate (I mean the color, not the scent this time)_

_ 10:Red_

_ 11:Green (dark green, not neon green)_

_ 12:Lavender_

_ 13:Left hand black, right hand blue (in commemoration of my fight)_

_ 14: Left hand Rose (Red Rose) Right Hand Raspberry (The color and scent) they went together in my mind, seeing as roses smell like raspberries, oddly enough._

_Again, Dear Diary, I take my leave._

_Mel (Now known again an Melissa)_


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

R&R Please

A/N Barbie has been around for, like, 50 years, so I assumed she is in the time period that CatCF takes place in.

_February 1st _

_Dear Diary, _

_If I have to wrap one more heart-shaped candy, I will scream. I guarantee it. Luckily, the last batch of anything valentine related_ _was shipped to the stored today. I have taken to trying to learn other languages, by reading them on the wrappers of the candies that are sent to other countries. I do not think I will get very far, though. Now, we start on candies for St. Patrick's Day, and April fools day. I pity the people who have to wrap his joke candies. Who knows what'll set one of them off. During my lunch break I had been working on an idea that I thought would be neat. I had it doodled on a piece of paper I found. It's a little pot made of chocolate, and filled with chocolate powder. And there'd be a seed (a sugar seed) and you could plant it, and add a drop of water, and it would sprout a sugar candy shamrock. Normally I would think this impossible, but he can do anything with his candies. Look at the everlasting gobstopper for example! It doesn't matter, anyways. I lost the paper. When I got done my lunch break, I left it where I was sitting (one of the hallways, on the floor, because it was more comfortable than the table in the lunch room) and forgot about it. Anyways, I can remember it, so the loss of a paper isn't important. Ugh, anyways, back to those valentine candies. It was horrid! Hearts and stars and puzzle pieces! Yes, puzzle pieces! You were supposed to put them together, and they would reveal a declaration of love, or whatever. I'd sooner eat the pieces separately, but that's just me. Now, I despise the color pink as it is (not all pink's, just the ones that scream BARBIE), and these past few days have been pink overload. I close my eyes and all I see is pink. I know that red and pink and white are the love colors, or whatever, but can't someone celebrate Valentines Day in blue or something? Or how 'bout orange? That'd be a change of pace! Ah, well, what can you expect? Tradition is tradition, and I got paid, so, I'll tolerate it. Barely. Oh! I have decided to stay in the Inn for a while longer (paying for my board, now) and work on stocking up on other things, like clothes and necessities. I bet it never crossed your mind that a poor girl sometimes couldn't afford a tampon! Thank goodness for Diana, yet again. Well, I have ranted enough for tonight, so I shall say my goodbyes._

_Melissa _


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

R&R Please

Sorry bout the delay, so here you are!

February 2nd 

_Dear Diary, _

_Oh…My…Bob…you will not believe what happened (actually, now that I rationalize it, you probably will, but anywho…) well, first off; apparently we have a cleaning crew! I never knew that! (Although it does seem like something obvious, I mean, it's a candy factory, of course there's going to need to be a cleaning crew. Once again, I say, anywho…) So, someone on the cleaning crew found my paper, near the taffy puller, no less (and I don't want to know how it got over there, on the OTHER side of the factory) and put it back in the inventing room, 'cause they thought it belonged there, and you'll _never _guess who picked it up. Yup, Santa Clause. Don't you just _love _sarcasm? Anywho, what was I saying? Oh, right. Yup, Willy Wonka. And I, in my supreme Geniosity (Yes, that is a word… now. And because it is such an **incredible** word, it deserved a capital letter) left my name. On the paper. With the shamrock. That is now in the hands of Willy Wonka. SO! Now I'm in the inventing room. Yes, currently in the inventing room. I decided to bring you with me today, and-_

_Sorry, Mr. Wonka was asking about whether I thought they should taste like lime, being green and all. I asked him if he'd ever eat a lime with his chocolate bar. So we've decided it shall just be sugar flavored, like the sugar that melts in your mouth kind. _

_Anywho, where was I? Aw, bloody hell, I forgot. Anywho, I suppose I should let you go, I hav-_

_Sorry, again. Mr. Wonka said that these things would be massed produced once they were deemed safe, and I get paid 5 per cent of all profits. Cool. I asked him if I could go back to work, but he said I now work in the inventing room, to test his ideas. Lucky me. If I turn blue or grow a beard by the time this is over, I'm going to threaten a lawyer to sue for me. Well anywho, I should really go this time. He keeps trying to read over my shoulder._

_Melissa_


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

R&R Please

A/N ok, in my story, since it's 50 years ago, or so, and in London (this is NOT fact, just something that helps my story) I am going to make it that relationships among co-workers is allowed, although it is greatly frowned upon.

_'February 3rd_

_Dear Diary,_

_I never will test another valentine's candy again. Why? Because they have FREAKY side effects! You want to know what it did? It messed with my mind! That's what! Right when I ate it, it pointed out every good thing about Mr. Wonka, making him look so utterly attractive! I was MORTIFIED! There is no way he could have not noticed my constant blushing! And then, when he asked me how it was, he got really close to my face! I almost fell down trying to back up before I turned the color of the candy I just ate! (Red, if you couldn't guess) The rest of the day was torture! I had to leave saying I wasn't well, to write this down right away, and sleep off whatever he put in that abominable candy!'_

Willy looked at this entry, clearly puzzled. "I didn't put anything in that candy, that was just a piece of sugar candy," he murmured out loud. He moved to lean against one of the candy trees to get more comfortable, and continued reading Melissa's Diary.

'_It pointed out everything, like his soft shirt, and extremely nice hair. Oh, I just want to run my fingers through it so much. NO! BAD THOUGHTS! Or his amazing smile or the way his eyes lit up when I said I liked the candy, or…MUST! STOP! …It's not like I didn't know how amazing he was, already. Yes, I admit it; I am attracted to Willy Wonka, but that candy made it ten times worse, mix that with being right next to him all day and this is the result. Now, I've liked a few people in my life before…sort of. I've never been in a relationship, however, and I am scared. Too scared to even try to start anything with Mr. Wonka, not that I would or could anyways. He's my BOSS for crying out loud! Not only is it unethical, it's illegal! … Isn't it? Isn't it? Well it's unethical, and that's enough reason for me! Now good NIGHT! … I'll write tomorrow…Is it legal...?_

_Melissa_


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

Sorry about the spelling errors in the last chapter! My spell check didn't pick them up!

R&R Please

Oh, and Jokestress Lamine, you owe me a cookie.

_February 4th_

_Dear Diary, _

_All right! I will go to work, and I will be professional, and I will NOT ogle over Mr. Wonka, no matter how nice his smile is, or- NO! I WILL NOT THINK ABOUT THAT! And to prove it to you, once again, I will bring you with me to work (and I will not let anyone read over my shoulder this time)._

_See? I've made it to lunch without anything happening. Sort of. Well, you see, at the testing room, I basically sit and wait until Mr. Wonka addresses me, which is where I am now writing to you, at the table where I sit…and wait…and wait…until he's ready for me to try something. Usually he has got 50 of everything, so I'm never not trying anything., but right now the 'eye candy' (lovely name, eh?) seemed to give him trouble. It was supposed to change children's eye color/design. For example, someone with naturally brown eyes could change them to blue, or green, or pink, etc. And then there were Halloween versions, to give cat eyes, and ghost eyes, and the like. But for some reason they weren't working. He kept muttering something about someone giving him bad Kredallas eyes, whatever they are. I don't want to know. But anywho, I was supposed to be telling you about what sort of didn't really happen, right? Right. So, what sort of didn't really happen was that every time he out a candy down for me to test, he'd hit my hand. Not hard or anything, just a light brush of our hands together, and it made my hand tingle. At first I thought it was just an accident, but it happened a lot, far too often for an accident. However, when it happened, I would look at him, and he wouldn't be paying any attention to me, he'd already be turning and walking away, mumbling and lost in his ramblings. You know, he really shouldn't mumble, it makes it hard for anyone to understand what he's saying. So now I don't know what to think. It was probably just nothing, anyways. Damn. Well, anywho I'm going to go f-_

_He read over my shoulder! AGAIN! That…that…MEANIE! I…I'm going to…RAWR!_

_And that's all I have to say._

_Melissa_


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

Please read the Quest for Camelot fic called "Tough Love" by _Malice or Chaos: YouChose_

Sorry about the spelling errors in the last chapter! My spell check didn't pick them up!

R&R Please

Oh, and Jokestress Lamine, you owe me an everlasting gobstopper now.

February 6th 

_Dear Diary,_

Oh my… oh my oh me oh my. Well, the hand thing definitely wasn't "just nothing." It progressed to full hand-over-hand contact. But that isn't what's bad. What's bad is I think I offended him. Here's what happened…

Mr. Wonka placed another of his 'eye candies' in front of me, and he laid his hand over mine. I was a little freaked out, but I just tried the candy like I was supposed to (I swear this candy business will make me fat!) but no dice. So I tried another one, and another one, and another one. Finally, the hand-over-hand thing started to bug me, so I asked him, politely mind you if he would remove his hand. It went like this,

"Um, Mr. Wonka?"  
"Hmm," he looked over at me.

"Umm, could you remove you hand, please?"

"Why? I like having my hand there," He stated happily.

"But, Mr. Wonka, It makes me uncomfortable," I said. By now I was feeling as uncomfortable as I sounded.

"It makes you uncomfortable?"

"Yes, it's a rather personal and intimate gesture, don't you think?"

"Yeah, which is why I am doing it," he stated as if it were the most obvious thing the world.

"No, I mean intimate as in someone you like, or love. Like that," I said, trying to make him understand how uncomfortable it was. He still didn't remove his hand, though.

"I know," he stated again "that's why I'm doing it."

Finally (my better judgment seeming had escaped me until now) I pulled my hand back.

He looked hurt, but it was gone in an instant.

"Mr. Wonka, I hardly think that was appropriate to say. I Barely know you and you barely know me. Also, you are my BOSS," I said, stressing the word 'boss' to get my point across, "It's unethical, and…and…well, I don't know you!"

This he seemed to understand.

"Ok! So you get to know me, and I get to know you, and then I can put my hand on yours!"

The again, maybe he didn't. He spoke as if he had figured out something major. Relieved that his hand wouldn't be on mine, for a while at least, I let the subject lie and went back to work. And Wonka was true to his word. His hands did stay off mine.

Melissa


	15. Chapter 14

OK! I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT! (It's because of this huge fiasco about a mouse and a movie theatre. Email me if you want to know) so to make it up to you guys (who I love so dearly) I…uh, have no idea how to make it up to you, but I'll think of something!

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

PS- Malice or Chaos has changed her name! Its now renegade chaos, so go read her QfC fic!

_Febuary 8th _

_Dear Diary,_

And Wonka was true to his word. His hands did stay off mine…however, now he insists on prying into my life! I should have known this was what he meant by "Getting to know me."

So, I get into work the day after the "hand" incident (as it shall henceforth be referred to as) and the first thing he does is bombard me with questions! Where was I born, who were my parents, what did I eat from the age of 0 – 2, it was maddening! The day after that was not much better. How did the encounter go, you ask? (Someday I will realize that you are not asking, my diary, and probably do not even want your pages to be filled with this drabble, however, you must get over it, because I will not stop writing now. It has become a habit.) Well it went like this.

I walked into the invention room and had just put my coat on the back of my chair (there are only 2 chairs in the whole inventing room. Mine, which is stationary in front of a table, and Mr. Wonka's, which has wheels so he may move from machine to machine, or use it to launch himself down the hallway for fun, but I'll tell you about that another time…) when in comes Mr. Wonka muttering something about a new candy invention. Rotten draguo feather or something, I didn't want to know, when he spotted my coat, thus spotting me. Without even saying 'hello' he launched into an array of words spoken so quickly I couldn't understand at all..

"Slow down Mr. Wonka! I can't understand a word you're saying!" I said loudly so he could hear me over his incessant questioning. He stopped and looked up at me, blinking one, then again.

"Alright, start again, from the beginning," I stated, "slowly!" I said quickly when he began to speak as quickly as before. He stopped again, with his mouth still open, a rather cute action if you ask me, then began to speak again.

"Where were you born?" he asked.

This threw me for a loop. It was not what I had expected first thing when I got to work, however, without thinking, I answered,

"Here, of course."

"Where did you live?"

And again, I answered without thinking.

"The north side of town, in the little house next to the town house," then I had the sense to ask, "why?"

"Why what?" sometimes his stupidity astounds me.

"Why do you want to know where I used to live?"

"Because I am getting to know you, duh!" and he giggled. I had forgotten about our 'encounter' the day before (plus it was early) so I could only form a string of words that sounded semi-comprehendible together.

"Oh…uhh…right…getting…know me…okay…got it"

"So, what did you eat from the second month of your life till 4 days after the fifth?"

"Uhh…what?" my comprehension level seemed to return to that on an eighteen year old because next I said "How in the world am I supposed to remember that! Do you remember what you had every day from…whenever you said?"

"Of course," he replied as if I was stupid, "every day I had 1 glass of milk, one piece of bread for breakfast, chicken soup with crackers for lunch an apple as an afternoon snack, and pasta for dinner. Same thing every day."

"I…ah…err…How on earth do you remember that! And the same thing every day? Wouldn't that get boring?"

"Yeah, it did," he trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. I didn't want to interrupt his memory, so I left him that way, and went to see the results of the recent tests. Hi didn't snap out of it for a good ten minutes. Whatever he saw must've bothered him because he was very quiet for the next few hours.

Suddenly, a thought struck me. If he had the same thing every day to eat, then…

"Mr. Wonka, what are you having for lunch today?"

"Chicken Soup with crackers," he answered without thinking, I could tell by the drawl in his voice.

"Well, how about today, you eat something different," I asked with a smile.

He looked up and smiled, too.

"Different? That sound fun! What did you have in mind?"

"It's a surprise!"

When lunch came around I brought him to Mr. Renkin's Inn and told him to pick a seat. He pointed to them all, muttering the little rhyme of enie meanie minie moe, which made me giggle, because I did the same thing. While he did that, I chatted with Mr. Renkin, ordering something for us both, and paying him. Then, I went to join Mr. Wonka at the table (he had finally chosen one).

"So what are we having?" he asked eagerly.

"I can't tell you," I said, laughing a bit, "but it'll be different!"

"So," he said, looking around, "what is this place?"

"This is where I live, for the time being!"

"Here," he asked incredulously.

"Yup! I shovel snow in the winter, and am a waitress on weekend with my friend Dianna, and in return he lets me stay here instead of paying me."

"You work on the weekends, too?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah, I am saving money for a house of my own," I answered.

"Why not just stay with your…your family…?" is it me? Or did he have problems with the word family?

"Because my parent's passed on a time ago."

"Oh…so how long have you lived here for?"

"About a year now"

"That long?"

"Yep, during my school year, I worked here full time until school ended and I got a job at the factory."

Then, our 'lunch' came, successfully ending our conversation, which I was thankful for.

"Pancakes? I love pancakes!" Mr. Wonka exclaimed gleefully, "Hey, what is that red stuff you're putting on yours?"

"Raspberry syrup, want to try it?"

"Sure! I've never had raspberry syrup before," I looked at him, my eyes impossibly wide with surprise.

"You're a candy maker, and you have never had raspberry syrup before?" I asked incredulously.

He gave an embarrassed laugh and admitted that he hadn't.

"Good," I stated, "Then when you like it, you can remember I was the one who introduced you to it."

He took a bite of his raspberry covered pancake piece and grinned.

"This is good," he said after swallowing.

"Told ya so," I couldn't help but grin, too.

"Thank you, Melissa. This is really nice."

Throughout the rest of the day, I felt very happy, almost as bubbly as Mr. Wonka usually is. I know it's a day that, even if I hadn't written it down, will be a day I'll never forget.


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

PS- Malice or Chaos has changed her name! Its now renegade chaos, so go read her QfC fic, if you want me to keep updating!

_February 15_

_Dear Diary,_

_I regret introducing Mr. Wonka to raspberry syrup, or raspberry in general, for that matter. Not that he hadn't had raspberry before, but ever since he had raspberry syrup last week, it's been raspberry everything. And as a candy tester, (who is no longer allowed to wear snazzy gloves) I am rapidly growing **very sick **of raspberryEspecially the raspberry-orange blends. Raspberry and orange were never meant to be together. Not according to my stomach, at least._

_I was about to complain when the **strangest **little creature walked in. It was short, only as high as my shin, and its hair was curled like a… a… well, it was curled at the top, just know that. It's skin was dark, and I am pretty sure that it's a boy, but I can't tell, because it wont speak… or… it doesn't. _

_I don't mean that it doesn't communicate, because I am pretty sure it does. At least, I think that's what it was doing when it started a strange dance, involving spinning hands, and hopping on one foot. Though, seeing Willy dance **back **at it made me wonder if the thing wasn't just childish. _

_Mr. Wonka later told me that the thing was, indeed, male, and that it was a creature called an Oompah Loompah, from Loompah Land. If I hadn't seen it, I would have never believed it. The Oompah Loompah's name is Meddigar. It makes me thing of… oh drat, I've forgotten what it made me think of. It was something good, I assure you, and if I remember it, I'll be sure to let you know._

_As I look back on it now, he really isn't that **ugly **of an Oompah Loompah (not that I know their standards for beauty. Anywho…) and, despite his short-ness, he really is very efficient around the testing room (Mr. Wonka wont let him roam the factory, and for a good reason. How would you react if you saw Meddigar? Well, you'd probably just sit there, as you are a book, but if you weren't, I'm sure you would have reacted differently)._

_Apparantly, Mr. Wonka is helping these little guys with some giant bug problem back on Loompah Land. Mr. Wonka says there are a hundred of those little guys there! Now, to me that seems like a lot, but he says that's actually not many at all!_

_So, apparently, Mr. Wonka is helping the Oompas with their bug problem, and in return he gets to use the bugs for ingredients (I don't even want to know)._

_Anywho (gosh, I say that a lot, don't I?), Meddigar is very nice (or so I gather, assuming Mr. Wonka translated right when I talked to him. Then again, I wouldn't put it past him to tell Meddigar that I had said something extremely offensive, and he'll never "speak" to me again._

_Mr. Wonka wants me to try to help teach Meddigar English (or to even speak, for that matter) while we continues working out the kinks in that "Eye Candy" of his. He's really hung up on fixing it. _

_Well, Diary, I think I shall bid you goodnight. It's time for me to work at the Inn again._

_Melissa_


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

PS- Malice or Chaos has changed her name! Its now renegade chaos, so go read her QfC fic, if you want me to keep updating!

February 17 

_Dear Diary, _

_Thank Gosh that dreaded Valentines Day is over. All of those candies that had haunted me when I was testing them were now floating about the Inn as people gave them to their sweethearts. Now, normally, I have nothing against Valentines Day. In fact, it's rather cute, though, in my opinion, some people do get too obsessed with it. However, when the Inn floor is littered with pink and red wrappers from corner to corner, it gets a tad annoying. And what's worse, because of their plastic-y-ness, they cannot be burned in the fireplace, and that means all the much more trash to be taken out. _

_Of course, half of the candy wrappers are because of the drunks who are "in love" with Diana. Poor girl. Actually, though, one of her admirers is a boy she fancies from when we were in school together. Of course, she doesn't know this, he's playing the whole secret admirer thing, and I promised I wouldn't him that I wouldn't tell her he sent the two-dozen roses. (Remember that obsessed thing I was saying earlier? Perfect example.) But, I can tell you! His name is Robert, and he has fancied Diana since hey were both fourteen. Isn't that sweet? Sometimes it just makes you want to go "Aww." _

_Anywho, Diana isn't stupid, and I'm sure she'll figure it out soon, if she hasn't already. But now, I must go; I have to work at the factory in half an hour! I shall write to you from the broom closet on the third floor during lunch break. I'm sure Mr. Wonka wont read over my shoulder there!_

_February 17, still_

_Dear Diary, _

_Well, it's lunchtime, but Mr. Wonka has stepped out, so I don't feel the need to hide in the broom closet. It's only Meddigar and I in the testing room, and I figure that, since he cannot speak English, he cannot read it either._

_Now that I think of it, Mr. Wonka has hardly been in here all day. I wonder what he has been up to? I wonder if it has anything to do with Meddigar and the Oo-_

_This must be the work of some DEMON LORD with too much free time! _

_Meddigar was READING OVER MY SHOULDER! AHHHHHHH!_

_Though, I wonder if he actually read, but regardless! He has been around Mr. Wonka too much! Meddigar is starting to adopt Mr. Wonka's over-the-shoulder reading habits!_

_Hmm… now that I think of it, I wonder if he **can **read. If not, Mr. Wonka should probably teach him that, along with being able to speak English. By the by, the English lessons between Mr. Wonka and Meddigar were not going well. They mostly involve Mr. Wonka shouting nonsense at Meddigar's face. They're real words, be sure of that, but it's nonsense all the same. I remember yesterday particularly well. It started off like this,_

"_Meddigar, say chocolate." (who didn't see that coming?)_

_Meddigar just stared at Mr. Wonka_

"_Chocolate," he reiterated._

_Meddigar started to walk away. So Mr. Wonka tried some new words in rapid succession._

"_Moo! Jelly! Medulla Oblongata! (I didn't even know he **knew **that one)"_

_Meddigar was staring at him as if he were insane (and honestly, so was I)._

_Eventually Mr. Wonka got fed up, and stormed off, only staying long enough to tell me that he'd "be back by lunch." Well… it's lunch and-_

_Freaky. He just walked in. Well I should go then. He doesn't look like he is in a good mood. _

_See ya._

_- Melissa - _


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing; I make no money, et cetera, et cetera.

PS- Malice or Chaos has changed her name! Its now renegade chaos, so go read her QfC fic, if you want me to keep updating!

Again, I don't know British money, so I have reverted back to American money. I'm Sorry!

February 21 

_Dear Diary, _

_All April candies are being mass-produced starting today, including the shamrock candies. Don't ask me how he got the "shamrock" to "grow" but he did it. Over the last four days I have been testing them, with some freaky side effects. My favorite was when, after the flower grew, and I had ingested it, I grew. In fact, I grew six feet taller than what I was. Good thing Mr. Wonka has unnaturally high ceilings in this room. Personally, I think stuff like this happens a LOT, and that is why he has the high ceilings. But that's just me. _

_Oh, I hope enough people buy the shamrock candies. I don't know if you remember, Diary, but if they sell, I get five per cent of all the profits. Now, they'll only cost something like fifty cents each, but still, that's 2 and a half cents for every candy sold, and if they're shipped 'round the world, well then, who knows!_

_Well, I shouldn't get my hopes up to high, nothing good ever comes from that, you know?_

_Oh, but do I have news for you, Diary! _

_I think… I think that I have a crush on Willy. I find myself inexplicably flustered when he comes near me, and thinking about him when he isn't. I hadn't noticed it until today, but now that I think back on it, I think it was always there. I was just… progressing, each day. _

_Whenever he reaches over my shoulder to get something, I just shut my eyes and _breathe._ I breathe deeply, taking in his scent, the scent of rock candy and (of course) chocolate. I'm not sure if "rock candy" was a good enough description, though. It's more like he smells like… pure sugar. I don't really know how to describe it, but the fact that I am taking so long to try to find the **perfect **word for it tells me how head-over-heels I am for the guy._

_And when he isn't looking over here, I admire his hair, his eyes (they're purple, you know. Purple!), I admire his jaw line, and how strong it looks, his hair, and how it's always so perfectly…well, perfect._

_Gosh, I use the word "Perfect" to describe him a lot, don't I? _

_He keeps popping up in my dreams to. Nothing dirty (so don't think that way!). It's usually just something small, like I might happen to walk by him on my way to the Inn or something (which is extremely unlikely. It's like he **lives **in that factory!)_

_The fact, though, is that he's** there**! I **never** dream about anyone I know. Ever! It just doesn't happen with me. At least… not that I remember, anyways._

_Speaking of dreams, I think that shall go to sleep now, and see if he is in tonight's dream(s)._

_I will let you know what happens (if anything) tomorrow._

_See ya, Diary_

_- Melissa_


	19. Chapter 18

HELLO LOVES! I'm sure you've all forgotten me by now, seeing as I had to stop writing when school started, but I'm back and it's summer vacay, so I'll be able to write more! Thank Renegade Chaos for getting me to start writing again. SO GO LOVE HER! … In a nonsexual way. She's taken .

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything, blah blah blah…_

_February 22,_

_Dear Diary, _

_Remember those English lessons from a few days ago?_

_Well, let's just say they didn't go that well, and Mr. Wonka grew bored of "teaching" Meddigar English, and made it my job. Joy. It didn't go much better than Mr. Wonka's attempt at teaching, but at least Meddigar didn't walk away. I've decided to use a bribing method to teach him. If he does well, I give him a cocoa bean (goodness knows we have enough to spare here) and if he doesn't do well, then no bean for him. _

_Our first lesson went something like this:_

_We were sitting in a makeshift classroom (aka – a tiny table with a tiny chair for Meddigar, and human-sized table and human-sized chair for myself). We each had a pad of paper in front of us, which, at first, Meddigar only stared at. I tried to demonstrate to him how to draw the letter "A" but he didn't get it. Eventually, I just guided his hand in the shape of an A (much like what mothers would do for their children when they, too, were first learning to write). Unfortunately, once he got the hang of it, he immediately sprang up and started drawing A's all over the factory walls. I regret, now, giving him that permanent marker. Mr. Wonka is going to kill me. Or, at least, the world's supply of permanent markers. _

_Well, at least he learned something, anyways. _

_Oh. Crap._

_There's Mr. Wonka, and he looks… well, confused._

_Be right back, then, while I go explain exactly what happened to his precious factory._

_Melissa_

_(Still Feb. 22__nd_

_Well, once again I am astounded my Mr. Wonka. I didn't get in trouble for Meddigar writing on the walls._

_However, I _am_ in trouble for "AAAAAAAA" not being a word. _

_Our conversation…or rather, his conversation, since I really had no say in anything, went like this:_

"_Melissa, are you aware of what Meddigar has done to my factory"_

_I opened my mouth to apologize, but Mr. Wonka continued teaching. _

"_The last time I checked a dictionary, 'AAAA' isn't a word. Now, admittedly, I haven't read a dictionary in a long time, but I highly doubt that 'AAAA' is now a word."_

_Again, I opened my mouth, this time to question if he had _ever_ read a dictionary, but again he continued talking._

"_Now, if you can't complete these lessons on your own, I'm just going to have to work on them with you"_

_I opened my mouth a third time, to remind him of his last attempts at lessons, but shut my mouth instead, figuring that he would just keep talking, which he did. _

"_Well, stop gaping like a fish. Fish do not belong in chocolate factories, they belong in lakes, and since there are no lakes near here, you can't be a fish."_

_And with that, he walked off. And I gaped. Like a fish. Maybe I should move near somewhere with a lake. _

_I think tomorrow is going to be one big, huge disaster. _

_Until then, _

_Melissa. _


End file.
